按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
truck； which skidded to avoid him with its horn roaring。
Right again； then left。 He ran a red light and swung right onto the bus…only ramp； which led up onto the freeway。 Merged with traffic and scanning the rearview mirror； only then did Smoke Judy begin to try to sort out what had happened。
〃He's dead。〃 The ambulance attendant covered the body of Vice Admiral Tyler Henry with a sheet。 〃You people give us some room。〃
Jake Grafton walked out into the elevator lobby； dazed。 A half dozen FBI agents were talking on their hand…held radios and listening to the words ing back。 There was still a bloody spot on the floor where one agent had gone down with a bullet in his shoulder。 Who would have believed。。。 Smoke Judy？
Toad Tarkington blocked his path。
〃Judy。 He's the guy who sold the E…PROM data； wasn't he？〃
Jake nodded。
Toad turned and walked away。
〃Tarkington！ Tarkington！〃
Jake caught up with the lieutenant in the plaza。 〃Where do you think you're going？〃
Tarkington didn't look at him。 〃For a few lousy bucks that bastard damn near killed my wife。 She'll never fully recover。 She'll carry the scars all her life。〃
〃The FBI'll get him。 They're the pros at this。〃
〃They'd better；〃 Toad muttered。 〃If I get to the cocksucker before they do； they can quit looking。〃
Tarkington walked away and Jake stood and watched him go。 What the hell； he needs some time off anyway。 He'll never find Judy。 The FBI will scoop him up in a day or two。 And maybe the time off will do Toad some good。
Back inside he ran into an agent he recognized； Lloyd Dreyfus。 〃What the hell happened； Dreyfus？〃
〃Well； Captain； it seems that the National Security Agency was monitoring the terminals； and when Judy got into the Athena file； they called Vice Admiral Henry right after they called us。 Henry beat us here by about a minute。〃
Jake started to speak and Dreyfus held up a hand。 〃I know； I know。 They shouldn't have done that。 And now some poor schnook will probably lose his job。 But Tyler Henry was Tyler Henry。 Very few people ever managed to say no to him and make it stick。〃
〃That's true；〃 Jake acknowledged。 〃Who was the civilian upstairs with Henry？〃
〃Guy from the Naval Investigative Service。 We got all this from him。〃
〃Where's Luis Camacho？〃
〃Working。〃
〃I want to talk to him。〃
〃I'll pass that along。〃
〃No。 You tell him he'll talk with me or I'm going to raise holy hell。 When somebody kills a vice admiral in a navy building； the lid is gonna get ripped off pretty damned quick。 Right now I know a lot more than my boss； and I don't know much。 When I start answering his questions he is not going to be a happy camper。 He's a vice admiral too； by the way。 I will answer his questions。 He's another one of those guys who doesn't take no for an answer。 George Ludlow； the Secretary of the Navy； he hasn't even heard the word since he got out of diapers。 And CNO。。。〃 Jake snorted。
〃Camacho…〃
〃He won't be able to wave his badge over on the E…Ring and stuff this shit back into the goose。。。 You tell him！〃
As mander Smoke Judy drove across the George Mason Memorial Bridge into Washington； he stripped off his white uniform shirt with the black shoulder boards and threw it onto the floor of the backseat。 He was still wearing a white T…shirt； but that would attract less attention than the uniform。 His cover was gone； lost somewhere back in the stairwell。
He needed a change of clothes； he needed to get rid of this car and he needed a place to hide。
He took the Fourteenth Street exit on the east side of the bridge and went north； rolling slowly with the traffic between tour buses and out…of…state cars laden with tourists。 A motel？ No…they would be checking motels and hotels and bus stations and。。。
He crossed Constitution Avenue and continued north into the business district。
Three blocks north of New York Avenue he was stopped in traffic inching through a single…lane construction choke point when he saw a drunk stagger into an alley； a derelict； or in the language of the social reformers； a 〃homeless person。〃
It took five minutes to go halfway around the block and enter the alley from the other end。 There was just room to get the car by a delivery truck。 The drunk was collapsed beside a metal Dumpster； his wine bottle beside him。 His head lay on a blanket roll。 Beside him sat a green trash bag。 After checking to make sure there was no one in sight。 Smoke stopped the car and stepped out。
The drunk was semiconscious。 Smoke examined the trash bag。 It contained an old coat； some filthy shirts。
〃Sorry； buddy。 This is the end of the line。〃 Judy throttled him with both hands。 The bum； who looked to be in his sixties； with a two…week growth of beard； kicked some and struggled ineffectually。 In less than a minute he was gone。
Judy stripped the shirt from the dead man and put it on over his T…shirt。 The trousers were next。 Sheltered between the Duropster and the delivery truck； Smoke took off his white trousers and white shoes and socks and pulled the derelict's grime…encrusted trousers on。 Perhaps this garment had once been gray； but now it was just dark； blotchy。 And a little big。 All the better。 He even took the dead man's shoes。 They were too small； but he put them on anyway。
Judy loaded the trash bag and blanket roll in the car。 He helped himself to the wine bottle too； wedging it between the stuff on the backseat so it wouldn't fall over and spill。
He rolled out of the alley and； with the help of a courteous tourist； managed to get back into traffic。 He discarded all his white uniform items in a Dumpster near RFK Memorial Stadium； then parked the car in the lot at D。C。 General Hospital
With his blanket roll over one shoulder and the trash bag… which now contained his gym bag…dangling across the other； he shuffled across the parking lot toward the Burke Street Metro stop。 He didn't get far。 His feet were killing him。 The shoes were impossibly small。 He sat on a curb with a little hedge behind it and put on his running shoes from his gym bag。 The car keys he buried in the soft dirt。 He stuffed the drunk's shoes under the hedge； sprinkled some wine on himself and smeared it on his face and left the bottle beside the shoes after wiping it of prints。 There was an old cap in the trash bag； which he donned。
He sat there on the curb； considering。 A car drove into the lot。 A woman and her two teenage youngsters。 She glanced at him； then ignored him。 The teenagers scowled。
This just might work； Judy told himself。 He shouldered his load and set off again for the Metro stop。
Harlan Albright was in the car dealer's snack area； feeding quarters into the coffee machine； when FBI agents arrived at 4：30 to arrest him。 He extracted the paper cup from the little door in the front of the machine and sipped it experimentally as he glanced idly through the picture windows at the service desk。 Three men in business suits； one of them black； short haircuts； their coats hanging open。 One of them had a word with Joe Talley； the other service rep； while the other two scanned the area。
As he looked at them； Albright knew。 They weren't here about a car。 When Talley pointed in this direction； Albright moved。
On the back wall of the snack area was a door marked 〃Employees Only。〃 It was locked。 Albright used his key and went through into the parts storeroom。 The door automatically locked behind him。
He walked between the shelves and passed the man at the counter with a greeting。 Out in the corridor he walked ten feet； then turned left and went through an unmarked door into the service bay。
Halfway down the bay； one of the mechanics was lowering a car on the hoist； 〃You about finished with that LTD； Jimmy？〃
〃All done； Mr。 Albright。 Was gonna take it out of here。〃
〃I'll do that。 The owner is out at the service desk now。 She's impatient； as usual。〃
〃Starter wire was loose；〃 the mechanic said。 〃That was the whole problem。 Keys are in it But what about the paperwork？〃
〃Go ahead and walk it over to the office。〃
〃Sure。〃 As Albright started the car； the mechanic raised the garage door and kicked the lifting blocks out of the way of the tires。
Albright backed out carefully and drove down the alley toward the area where customers' cars were parked。
Yep； another guy in a business suit hustling this way； and another going around the building toward the front entrance。 Albright turned left and drove by the agent walking toward the main showroom。 That agent looked at him with surprise。 As Albright paused at the street； he glanced in the rearview mirror。 The agent was talking on a hand…held radio and looking this way。
Albright fed gas and slipped the car into traffic。
They would be right behind him。 He jammed the accelerator down and shot across the next intersection just as the light turned red。
He went straight for three more blocks； then turned right for a block； then right again。
He entered the dealership lot from the back and coasted the car toward the service parking area； watching carefully for agents。 His trip around town had taken five minutes。 Yes； they all seemed to be gone。
He parked the car and walked back inside。
Joe Talley saw him ing。 〃Hey； Harlan； some guys were here looking for you。〃
〃'S'at right？〃
〃Yeah。 Didn't say； but they were cops。 Had those little radios and charged outta here like their tails were on fire。 Just a couple minutes ago。 Say； what've you done anyway？ Robbed a bank？〃
〃Nah。〃 Albright quickly sorted through the rack of keys of cars that were awaiting service。 〃Forgot to put a quarter in the meter。〃 This one； a new Taurus。 In for its first oil change。
〃Sons of bitches came after me two years ago；〃 Talley said。 〃My ex swore out a warrant。〃
〃I sent her the fucking check last week；〃 Albright growled。 He walked back toward the parking area。 〃They e back； you tell 'em I went out to feed the meter；〃 he called。 〃See you after a while。〃
〃Yeah； sure； Harlan。〃 Talley laughed。
〃Do my time card too； will'ya； Joe？〃
〃You're covered。〃 Talley went back to annotating a service form。
Albright never returned to the dealership； of course。 Less than two hours later he abandoned the Taurus in a parking garage in downtown Washington and walked four blocks to a KGB safe house。
〃Just like that； cool as ice； he went back and traded cars？〃
〃Yessir。〃 Dreyfus tried to keep his eyes on Camacho's face。 It was difficult。
〃Two guys in two hours go through our fingers！ What is this； Keystone Kops？〃 Camacho sighed heavily。 〃Well； what are we doing to round up these public enemies？〃
〃Warrants for them both。 Murder One for Judy and Accessory Before the Fact for Albright。 Stakeouts。 Briefings for the D。C。； federal； airport and suburban police…every pistol…packer within fifty miles of the Washington Monument。 Photos on the eleven o'clock news and in tomorrow's papers。 The cover story is drug。〃
〃We really needed Albright； Lloyd。〃
〃I know； sir。〃 Dreyfus was stunned。 Luis Camacho had never before called him by his first name in the five years they had known each other。
Camacho sat rubbing his forehead with the first two fingers of his left hand。
〃Drugs in the Pentagon is going to get a lot of press；〃 Dreyfus volunteered。 〃Already Ted Koppel wants the Director for Nightline。 Some nitwit on the Hill is promising a congressional investigation。 Everybody on the west side of the Potomac is probably going to have to pee in a bottle on Monday morning。〃
If Camacho heard； he gave no sign。 After a moment he said softly； 〃We'll never get him unless he es to us。〃
27
A Saturday in August is a terrible time to be in Washington。 The heat and humidity make any trip outdoors an endurance trek。 The summer haze diffuses the sunlight； but doesn't soften it。 Perspiration oozes from every square inch of hide and clothes bee sodden rags。
By eleven o'clock Saturday morning。 Smoke Judy felt as if he had lived on the street for six months。 He had managed only two hours' sleep the night before； most of it in fifteen…minute spurts。 The alley he now called home housed three other derelicts； all of whom were atose drunk by 9 P。M。 They had no trouble at all sleeping。
At 7 A。M。； or thereabouts…Judy had stowed his watch in his gym bag…his panions stirre